Then there was Scream. Or I should say Scream Louder, which was a remix. [which I just now realized sampled Sly and the Family Stone. Brillz.] One of my dance teachers choreographed a piece to this that we performed at like 29384234 different events that year…97-98 maybe?  The choreography was insane and awesome and it was easily one of my favorite dances I’ve ever done. I’d drive my mother crazy rehearsing it in the front foyer. It was a full six minutes, ending with a turning renversé followed by a complete drop.  I scoured the internet for examples so I could show you what that means, and I came up empty-handed,  so….here’s the best I can do:

PART A: “Renversé, turning”

PART B. “Fall.”

Rehearsing this was my mom’s worse nightmare, because every run-through ended with “..make me, wanna scream….  …music..music..music……. BANG!” I had to practice it over and over, so I could conquer the art of contorting my body mid-air into a position where I could land flat on my back. Ten years of dance to correct a lack of motor skills, and there I was, falling. With a purpose. Because it looked cool.

Bess and I were talking about how MJ’s death has hit some of us harder than others, and she made the observation that her friends that were dancers seem to be the most moved by it. I’m noticing that, too. We all aimed to have one ounce of the effortlessness, the Cool that he had.

I found this video that had the remix, along with some nicely edited clips that illustrate my point.

Finally, I cannot talk about Michael Jackson without incorporating my most recent memories --  dancing to P.Y.T at pretty much every opportunity this year. My friends and I have stuffed jukeboxes, requested it from DJs, even demanded it at piano bars.  It was an homage to the past while celebrating new beginnings.

Obviously, my sadness at Michael Jackson’s death goes deeper than the artist himself.  It’s a realization that I am not that young anymore, that those carefree days are gone, and that life gets more complicated than I ever anticipated. I’m almost embarrassed to be making such grandiose, retarded statements at the age of twenty-five and as the result of a dead pop star, but I don’t know how else to feel, what else to say.

He was brilliant.  I’ll probably never see another artist like him in my lifetime. Rest in Peace.